


The Price of Freedom

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: McHanzo [16]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Broken Promises, Captivity, Coercion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Promises, Psychological Torture, Self-Sacrifice, Serious Injuries, Talon!Hanzo, Torture, loss of self
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-20 04:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16549094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Talon were still refusing to take no for an answer, but Hanzo has no intention of going back to the man he was. He has his freedom, he has his brother by his side once more and he has Jesse. There is nothing that could make him turn his back on the life he has now, apart from the very things that he holds dear.





	The Price of Freedom

     Hanzo tensed for a moment as he heard movement behind him, but then he caught the familiar jingle of metal, and despite himself, he felt a smile tugging at his lips even before McCree’s voice rang out as his partner stepped out onto the ledge beside him. “What are you doing up here now of night?” There had been a time, back when he had first joined Overwatch that such a question would have been full of suspicion, but now there was nothing but warm concern, and when he tilted his head to look up at the other man he could see the worry in the tawny eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep.” It was a common enough occurrence for both, nightmares frequently chasing them out of bed at all hours of the night, but tonight Hanzo hadn’t even tried to sleep. He’d eaten dinner with the rest of the team, something that Genji had blackmailed him into months ago because apparently, he wasn’t ‘socialising’ enough. And while he would never tell his brother, he now looked forward to those meals, especially since it had become an unspoken rule that he always sat beside McCree. He’d even allowed McCree to convince him to join them in the common room for a movie night, but he had slipped away when the other man had dozed off halfway through. Telling an unconvinced Genji that he wanted to get away from the snoring fool and he’d found his feet carrying him up to his old retreat on the ledge encircling the communication tower.

    He had half-expected McCree to grumble about that, his partner had made it plain on more than one occasion that he disliked waking alone, but instead, McCree moved to his side and settled down on the edge, and he blinked when he found a steaming mug of tea being dangled in front of him. Somewhat incredulous he accepted the cup and sniffed it, smiling as he recognised his favourite green tea and taking a sip, realising just how cold he had been getting as he felt it burn on its way down and savouring the taste. It had taken him a long time to teach McCree how to brew it just how he liked it, and his expression softened as he glanced up at McCree. “Thank you.” He was expecting a teasing grin or a joke like usual, but McCree was frowning as he studied him, and there was a moment of tense silence, Hanzo not knowing what to say and McCree seemingly gathering his words.

“Was it what Widowmaker said to you?”

   _Oh. OH._ Hanzo hadn’t expected that he hadn’t thought that anyone had been nearby when the Talon sniper had managed to corner him on the rooftop during their mission two days earlier, and he had to look away, focusing his gaze on the cup now clasped between two trembling hands. “You heard that?”

“She wasn’t exactly trying to hide it, and I caught the tail end of it when I got up to you.” McCree’s reply was terse, and Hanzo remembered the brief flicker of panic he had seen in his partner’s eyes when he’d reached the rooftop to find Hanzo trapped against the wall, Widowmaker’s gun trained on his chest. It occurred to him that they hadn’t spoken about it. McCree had charged in, a timely flashbang giving Hanzo time to slip away and with the two of them flanking her Widowmaker had been forced to retreat, and they had immediately re-joined the others to wrap up the last of the mission. He caught the way McCree’s eyes flickered down to his chest, and he sighed, torn between irritation and affection, still startled that there was someone who put so much effort into worrying about him, and he shifted his grip on the mug so that he could reach out to grasp McCree’s hand.

“I’m fine.”

“I know,” McCree replied, but it didn’t stop his fingers from curling around his, just the right side of painful and Hanzo sighed but didn’t comment. Still, there was a lingering tension in his partner’s posture that he couldn’t ignore, and an unpleasant weight slid into place as he realised what might be causing it and he looked away, swallowing before forcing himself to ask.

“Are you worried that I would take her up on the offer?” It was a reasonable question to ask. McCree hadn’t been the only one to doubt him in the start, and the then infrequent attempts by Widowmaker to talk to him, promising him that Talon could help his clan rise to power once more had done little to ease those worries. Even his heated rebuttals had done little to convince them, and after every encounter, he had felt eyes watching him a little more closely than before, conversations becoming more stilted. He had finally let himself hope that was a thing of the past as time went on and he had slowly become a proper part of the team, his barriers coming down, in no small part due to the stubborn man beside him. So, it hurt, more than he through it could to even think about that suspicion coming back.

“Hanzo…” McCree sounded pained, but Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to look at him, worried that he would just see his worries being confirmed. He was caught by surprise when cool fingers caught his chin, surprisingly gentle even though he was fully aware of what that hand was capable of.  “Look at me.” It wasn’t an order he realised belatedly, realising that McCree’s fingers were just resting there not forcing him to look, and it was that combined with the plea he could hear in McCree’s voice that made him lift his head, not quite looking at the other man, but close enough. “I know that you’d never join them, you’ve more than proved that!” The forcefulness of those words had him looking up properly, meeting McCree’s gaze, breath catching at the fire in his partner’s eyes, not helped by the feel of McCree’s fingers shifting up to curl lightly against his cheek. “And, I’m sorry that you ever had to prove that.” _I’m sorry that I doubted you…_

“It was understandable.” _It still hurt though…_

“Doesn’t make it right,” McCree countered, and Hanzo found himself having to look away again. He couldn’t argue, remembering the long nights spent alone in his room wondering why he had come to Overwatch, wondering if the opportunity to make amends and reconnect with his brother were worth the tense silences, the secrets, the suspicions. More than once he had found himself starting to pack up his meagre belongings, longing for his old solitude, but something had always stopped him from taking that step. “I’m just worried that they’re not letting this go. It’s been over a year, and they’re still hounding you about it.” That made Hanzo look up, happier to focus on the present, even as he frowned as he thought back to their more recent encounter.

“She did seem more…” Hanzo paused, searching the for the word, shivering when he remembered the hungry look in her eyes; the way he had felt powerless in front of her for a moment, feeling McCree’s fingers tightening on his, the pressure grounding him. “Forceful about it this time, as though there would be consequences if I didn’t agree. But I don’t understand why it would change now.”  There had been nothing to encourage it. It had been months since they had last encountered the ragtag remains of the Shimada family, and they had been nothing but the dredges of the lower ranks, easily defeated and dismissed as a threat. _So why now?_

“I asked Winston to keep an eye on any intelligence we had coming in,” McCree admitted cautiously, looking a little bit sheepish when Hanzo glowered at him, no doubt expecting to be scolded for reaching out to the others as although Hanzo had opened up a lot, he was still intensely private about his problems.   “In case there was something that might be encouraging them,” he added in a hurry, hoping to at least get the words out, but Hanzo deflated a moment later, leaning against him instead.

“Thank you.” If McCree had harboured any doubts about the situation bothering his partner, it was destroyed there and then, with two simple, whispered words, and he growled under his breath, pulling Hanzo into a proper hug. The archer went willingly, curling against him, tucking his face into the crook of McCree’s neck as his fingers latched onto the serape, clinging to him and McCree tugged him closer, drawing soothing patterns against his back.

“They’re not going to get you.”

_I’ll kill them first._

****

     Hanzo sighed as he moved to the targets and began to retrieve his arrows, trying not to notice just how many of his shots he had missed. It had been a long time since he had missed this many, and his fingers tightened around the shaft of the arrow he had just pulled loose, staring down at it with empty eyes. As much as he wanted to pretend otherwise the last encounter with Widowmaker had left him rattled, and even McCree’s reassurances and the fact that Winston had pulled him aside to say that there was nothing in any of the intel they had at the moment to explain the shift, had done little settle him. Instead, he found himself suffering from a resurgence in the old nightmares that used to keep him awake at night, dreams that had started to fade, held at bay by McCree’s warm presence in his bed.

    Which was why he was down in the practice range at three in the morning, with no one but Athena for company although the AI had been quiet after he had snapped at her concerned questions. It was something that he would have to apologise for later otherwise he was likely to find himself locked out of his room again as the A.I had learned how effective such punishments were. For now, though he remained quiet, forcing himself to move and finish collecting the rest of the arrows, returning them to his quiver. In the past practice had always been a way for him to relax and clear his mind, but tonight every time he had fired and missed, he had been assaulted with memories of the training he had undergone as a child. The endless days spent in the dojo, pushed until he could no longer stand upright let alone lift his sword, disapproving looks and words if he were anything less than perfect.

    He cursed under his breath as he slid the last arrow back into the quiver. It had been a long time since he had let himself think about his childhood, especially after reuniting with his brother, as it was hard to reconcile the Genji of today with the bright-eyed child always slipping out of practice or clambering over the rooftops and calling it ‘training’. It was even harder knowing where that training had led them, a shudder going through him as he remembered the feel of a katana in his hands, those long hours of practice showing as he stood over his brother and his fingers tightened around his bow. That was in the past…that was in the past… He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the words a mantra in the back of his mind as he tried to clamp down on the memories.

    It had been the same ever since Widowmaker had spoken to him, her promise, or threat, to bring back his family stirring up the past he wanted to leave behind. The thought of the Shimada clan rising beyond the dregs that he knew still lingered in Japan left him feeling sick to the pit of his stomach, he wanted no part in that, he would have no part in that. He had meant every word of his refusal, and yet… he couldn’t shake her forcefulness or the smirk that had met his refusal, as though she knew something that he didn’t. There was nothing that would make him agree to her offer, nothing that would make him resume the path the elders and his father had envisioned for him. _They made us what we were, they made you into someone who couldn’t refuse them anything, into someone who wouldn’t even think to refuse,_ Genji’s words from the night they had finally broached the topic of what Hanzo had done echoed through his mind. _I don’t want to become that man again. I won’t_ , he heard his bow creaking under his grip as he tightened and somehow, he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe his own words.

“Brother?” The quiet voice, chasing on the tail of his memories made him start, and he whirled, already notching an arrow to his bow, only to freeze as he found himself staring at Genji who was stood in the doorway, hands out to show that he wasn’t a threat.

“Genji.” He swallowed thickly, glancing down at the arrow that was pointed at his brother and hastily lowering his bow. “I’m sorry.” It didn’t matter that he knew Genji could have dodged it with ease, especially with how dodgy his aim had been lately, just the fact that he had aimed a weapon at his brother again outside of training had him trembling and highly aware of Genji watching his every move he dropped the bow and moved away from it. _Not again. I can’t do that again._

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Genji replied, moving towards him without any sign of hesitation although when their eyes met Hanzo couldn’t miss the concern in them and he found himself being the one to look away and retreat slightly. _Don’t apologise to me,_ the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he found himself silenced when his brother stooped to retrieve his bow, holding it out towards him like a peace offering. Part of him wanted to recoil or refuse to take it, but Genji was watching him, trusting him and after a moment he reached out and took it back, praying that his brother wouldn’t comment on the way his fingers trembled. “You’re up late.”

“So are you.”

“Don’t deflect.” Hanzo blinked at the sharp retort. It had been a long time since Genji had used that tone on him, in fact, the last time had been months ago when his brother had decided that he’d had enough of him moping about the past and dragged him off for the talk that had finally cleared the air. “You’ve been acting strange for the last few days, and Jesse is worried about you.” _Of course,_ there were still times when the close friendship between his partner and brother still caught him by surprise, envy surging as he reminded of the past they shared. It was short lived though because he was distracted by the fact that McCree was still worrying about him, and he was completely derailed a moment later when Genji added more softly. “And so am I.”

“I…”  He couldn’t deny Genji anything these days, and he sighed, shoulders slumping before he turned and moved across to the wall, hearing the soft patter of his brother’s footsteps as he followed. They were both quiet as they settled against the far wall, Hanzo carefully setting his bow down beside him, as far from Genji as he could manage.

“Hanzo?”

“Did he tell you about what happened? With Widowmaker?” He saw his brother nod out of the corner of his eye, and he grimaced, wondering just how many people knew about it before deciding he probably didn’t want to know. “I can’t get it out of my head, and it’s stirring up memories…”

“Unpleasant ones?” Genji asked, and this time he was the one to grimace as Hanzo shot him an incredulous look. “Okay, that was a stupid question.” He fell quiet for a moment, staring off into the distance for a few minutes and Hanzo didn’t know what to make of the expression on his face, still not used to seeing his once headstrong and reckless brother actually pausing to think things over. It was another reminder of how things had changed, and why, he added, eyes tracing the scars that ran across his brother’s face. Scars he had left, his hands curling into fists in his lap. _Never again._ He jolted when there was a gentle touch on his wrist, startled to realise that in his moment of distraction Genji had turned towards him and shifted closer. “It won’t happen.” 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Genji ordered, this time gripping him tightly when he tried to retreat. “You’re worried about the past repeating itself, it’s why you looked like you’d seen a ghost when I startled you. It’s why you’re trying to keep your bow away from me.” Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to refute the words, because it was true. As much as the thought of the Shimada clan rising again sickened him, the thought of being part of that leaving him with ice in the pit of his stomach, it was the thought that he would end up on the opposite side to his brother that kept waking him in the early hours of the night. “It won’t happen,” Genji continued, and Hanzo stared at him, wide-eyed at the sheer certainty in those three words. _How? How do you know? How can you believe in me after what I did to you?_

    The questions must’ve shown in his face because his brother smiled, grip loosening little although he didn’t let go completely, instead allowing a finger trace part of the tattoo. “You’re not that man anymore, you’ve more than proved that to anyone who matters. Talon is just too blind to see that.”

“But, what if…?”

“It’s not going to happen.” Genji cut him off, firmer this time, eyes bright as green swirled around him, his dragon reacting to his agitation and Hanzo felt an echo of that feeling in his own arm. “Would you let it?”

“No.” Hanzo was quick to reply, shaking his head almost desperately, not wanting there to be the slightest hint of doubt in his brother’s mind. Back in the early days when his every action had been watched by wary eyes and discussed behind doors, Genji alone had supported him, but there had been times when he had caught a waver in his brother’s voice, a sliver of doubt that he deserved. He didn’t want to go back to those days. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Then there is nothing to worry about,” Genji replied, and Hanzo desperately wanted to believe him when he said it with such confidence, such faith. “You know that we won’t let Talon have you, that Jesse would never let anyone lay a hand on you.”

“I know…” He did know. McCree had made it very clear that Talon would get to Hanzo over his dead body, it was another worry he had been harbouring for the last few weeks because as much as his partner had a flair for the dramatic, he knew that he meant it this time. He had seen the glimmer in tawny eyes that night on the communications tower, the fury that had been hidden behind the reassuring words and promises. It scared and awed him in equal measures to know that someone was willing to go that far for someone like him.

“Good,” Genji interrupted his thoughts again, and from the knowing glance, it was clear that had been deliberate and Hanzo couldn’t help but wonder when he had become so easy to read. He didn’t get a chance to ask because Genji was back on his feet, rising in a smooth movement that almost had Hanzo envying him, almost…his gaze watching the smooth flex of cybernetic limbs and feeling a familiar pang of guilt, although he was careful to hide it as his brother held out a hand to help him to his feet, accepting it and grumbling when Genji nearly launched him with the yank he gave.

    He was thinking half-heartedly about practising when Genji beat him to it, darting around him to scoop up his bow, depositing in his hands without hesitation before wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “No more practising tonight, especially with the way your aim was earlier.” Hanzo tensed at that, colouring and cursing in the same breath, he hadn’t realised that his brother had seen that. There was a sigh in his ear, and he was unable to argue as he found himself being steered towards the door. “You need to go back to bed, curl up with Jesse and stop worrying about things that are never going to happen.” Now that he was no longer actively thinking about practising, Hanzo was aware of the exhaustion creeping up on him, and the mental image of Jesse waiting for him in their bed had him relaxing, melting into his brother’s supportive arm but it didn’t stop him from grumbling.

“When did you get so wise?”

 “About the time I found my brother missing all his shots,” Genji taunted, easily avoiding Hanzo’s half-hearted swat and chuckling as he leads the way back towards their rooms. “Believe me I know how easy it is to get caught up in your own thoughts, and how sometimes you need someone else to see things clearly for you,” he added more seriously, and Hanzo deflated, knowing that he was referring to the early days in his new body. That had been a hard conversation, hearing what his brother had undergone physical and emotionally, knowing that he had failed him yet again by not being there. He knew better than to apologise again, knowing that his brother didn’t want the words. Instead, he reached out, briefly brushing his fingers against Genji’s wrist.

“Thank you.”

**

    By the time they had reached the room he shared with McCree, he had found himself agreeing to not only eating breakfast with his brother but also joining him and Zenyatta for meditation. It was something he occasionally did, and usually only under duress because he found dark thoughts seeping in whenever he tried to clear his mind, but he hadn’t been able to argue when Genji had pointed out he probably needed it this time. With that promise ringing in his ears and with it the reality of an early morning, he had slipped back into his room with little more than a wave of farewell, hoping to avoid disturbing McCree and to get to sleep as soon as possible.

    Years of practice meant that he was nearly silent as he carefully stowed his bow and quiver in the corner, discarding his practice clothes in favour of the large shirt he had stolen from McCree months ago before tiptoeing towards the bed and the McCree-shaped lump that he could vaguely make out in the half-light coming through the window. He thought that he had got away with it when he slipped under the covers, curling against the warmth of his partner, only to let out a startled noise when a warm arm promptly wrapped itself around his waist, pulling him close so that McCree could rest his head on his shoulder.

“Did you get it out of your system?”

“I…”

“I woke up when you sneaked out,” McCree took pity on him after a moment of awkward silence, shifting them into a more comfortable position, with the archer’s head resting on his chest, his free hand coming up to play with Hanzo’s hair. “You had the look of a man with a lot on his mind.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

“I…” He wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologising for this time - for waking McCree? For worrying him when he already had enough to worry about? For not talking to him? He sighed, turning and burying his face against McCree, breathing in the familiar scent and letting the feeling of being safe, of being home wash over him. “I think so,” he mumbled, deciding that it was safer to answer the previous question, McCree hummed in acknowledgement and then there were warm lips pressing against his temple encouraging him to pull away and tilt his head up to meet McCree’s gaze, earning another kiss to the lips this time.

“Good,” McCree didn’t seem upset that he had sought comfort elsewhere and not for the first time Hanzo wondered at his luck, his own arms snaking around the other man, holding him close. He wasn’t one for rash declarations of affection even now, but tonight, with McCree’s soothing presence and his brother’s assurances in his ears he found the words creeping out, whispered against tan skin, warming him.

“I love you.”

    He felt McCree jolt a little at the words, but before he could worry about it, he found himself being tugged closer, feeling the kisses that McCree was peppering against the top of his head and he could practically hear his partner’s smile when he replied. “I know.” Any temptation he might have had to swat at McCree disappeared when it was followed by a lingering kiss, the arms around him tightening, McCree seeming to wrap himself around him, a protective barrier against the rest of the world. Against Talon and Widowmaker, and the doubts that kept creeping up through the craps, his voice soft and warm as he pressed another kiss to the tip of Hanzo’s ear. “I love you too.”


End file.
